


slowly, slowly, we sink into the sea

by CherFleur



Series: Sea Shanties [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, I blame Fisch for this, Kinda, Mentioned Cannibalism, Older works I'm getting around to posting, Platonic Life Partners, Self-Insert, a mink who is also traumatized, also, and a Fish Woman who has zero fucks to give, canonical racism, gotta love the childhood trauma, oc-insert, sometimes a family is a traumatized doctor, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: To be frank, Dalla had a pretty sweet deal going on. No curfews, no pesky law enforcement, no one was breathing down her neck about rent. Hell, she'd even kicked her drug habit!Sure, she'd had to die first, but, y'know, shit happens.And then you wake up as a completely different species in the darkest parts of the oceans, because it be like that sometimes.
Relationships: Bepo & Original Character(s), Bepo & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Heart Pirates & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Trafalgar D. Water Law & Original Character(s)
Series: Sea Shanties [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882600
Comments: 18
Kudos: 159
Collections: Reincarnation and Transmigration





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another older fic I decided to start posting. Partner fic that happens earlier than as oxygen burns in this series.

_Ah, there’s a boy here,_ she thought, mildly irritated at the intrusion into the cavern she’d picked out on this island to use. _I wonder how he found my – hey, he’s eating my food!_

“Oi!” she cried indignantly, pulling herself out of the water and onto dry land. “Tha’s mine, ya thief!”

Turning towards her in surprise, the boy who looked about her age grasped a shorter katana that she didn’t know the name for. Only to falter a little at her appearance, eyes widened and jaw dropping slightly. Suddenly, she remembered what she was wearing. Or rather, what she _wasn’t_ wearing as the case may be.

It was hard to look threatening in a bathing suit, she was aware, but she still had her special dagger strapped to her thigh. Her scavenging net weaved bag was clipped to a harness at her waist that hung off of her shoulders with various clips in place in case she wanted to tow more than one bag at a time.

Actually, she blinked, remembering. That might not be what startled him.

Sometimes she forgot that she was one of the rare Fish Women.

It was funny, since not that long ago she could barely go minutes without obsessing over it.

Stepping forward, she unhooked her bag full of clams, shiny doodads from the ocean floor and a couple of crabs she’d grabbed for dinner, and scowled at the boy as she pulled her harness over her head, examining her ‘guest’ as she did so. He was bruised up and skinny, looked kind of like he’d been running from something, if that sharp look in his eyes was anything to go by. Her eyesight in the dim lighting was good, incredibly so, so it was easy to see that his wrists were kind of thin even if he did have quite a bit of wiry muscle on him. Looked scrappy in the kind of way that she could appreciate in a guy who was more than likely to be down on his luck, the kind of tenacious that made him a survivor, and she liked survivors.

Well, it also didn’t hurt that he was kind of cute, either, with his high cheekbones, pale yellow eyes and short, messy dark hair.

“Ya wanna eat, least ya c'n do's _ask_ ,” she told him decisively, squatting down to pull the big, meaty crabs the size of her head from her bag. They were gonna be _so good._ Couldn’t wait for the crunch of those little dudes between her claws and teeth. “How ya feel ‘bout crab, thief?”

For a long moment, he studied her before his hunger seemed to win whatever internal struggle he was dealing with, and he released his death grip on that short katana to settle back amongst her things once again. From what she could tell, he’d made a beeline to her provisions, completely avoiding her bread, which was a relief, because she couldn’t cook that stuff up for shit, not like she could easily replace meat by going out hunting or diving for her prey.

He’d torn into some cold grilled poultry, which was healthier than if he’d gone after her seafood or pork. Probably done because it was less likely to carry the bacteria in it that would made someone sick, and he’d been eating it slow and careful, too, if the delicate strips he’d been pulling off was anything to go by. Spoke of experience in having gone without food for long periods of time, of knowing that eating too much, too fast would make him sick.

Not that she had digestive problems anymore, because she was really fuckin' bomb as all get-out and she'd been birthed _amazing._ Eventually she would convince herself of this, would be able to fake it until she made it; at least, that’s what she so dearly hoped for.

Anila would frown and get all sad if she went maudlin, so she just _didn’t_.

It was second nature, to push the bad things away.

“Got a name?” the Fish Woman asked as she pulled out her pot to boil the crab that was pinching at her with large pincers ineffectually. “Or'm I gonna hafta jus’ call ya thief?”

Another moment of silence as he looked at her, watching every move that her callused, claw tipped hands made.

“Trafalgar Law,” was his hoarse, tired answer.

It was only muscle memory and practice that kept her from jerking in surprise to stare at him as she continued to set about cooking their food, because _holy shit._

This was the guy who would someday become the Surgeon of Death.

Her first thought was something along the lines that even though he’d looked pretty cool in the manga and anime, he was most certainly more attractive as a real, live, breathing person than he’d been as a fictional character, but that was probably true in most cases. Even if pictures were pretty, there really wasn't much in the way of substance when comparing a person to an anime character. The second thought she had was something along the lines of:

_Oh, man! Nilla’s not gonna_ believe _this when I see her next!_

Mixed with:

_Oh, man. Nilla’s gonna strangle me if I mess with this._

Eh.

“Law, yeah?” she tilted her head, examining him from scruffy top, to scruffy bottom. “Ya want da crab, or ya wanna finish that there?”

Flicking his yellow gaze from the piece of chicken he’d dropped – he seemed pained to see the dirt on it – and the slowly boiling pot of water with the crab in it. Before he sighed a little and hitched his shoulder towards the crab in answer. Quirking a half smile at him she nodded her head in acknowledgement, before sniffing as an unfamiliar scent hit her nose, making her head rise as it wafted from the land side cave opening.

Knowing what she did now about her uninvited guest, considering the fact that he had the Op-Op no Mi and had likely moved the large boulder she’d had keeping the entrance from being exposed… she wondered what was making its way down the tunnel as well, perhaps scenting the fire or the meat.

“A… bear?” she muttered to herself without thought, cocking her head to the side as she sniffed the air, uncaring of the way that her meal companion stiffened. “No… there ain’t no bears on this island, is there? Smells kinda weird, too, though… Hmm…”

As she stood, the boy stood with her, wobbling a bit in the way that told her he was also injured on his left side, enough that he couldn’t hide it as his eyes got a bit wide with an almost wild worry, hands twitching in front of him as he did so. Turning her head to face him, she quirked a brow in curious confusion, wondering what exactly he needed so badly.

“I…” he hesitated a moment, studying her again, once more struggling within himself. “If it’s a white bear, it’s my companion. Bepo. Please,” he seemed to swallow back something like pride. “Do him no harm.”

Huh, perhaps she did look threatening in just her swimsuit, after all. It could be the claws. Or the fact that she was purple and very clearly of the not human variety of people… Seemed logical enough, but… Nah, it was most definitely the claws, since he hadn’t seen the teeth, had he?

Besides, purple wasn’t a very threatening color, was it?

“Bepo, yeah?” she sniffed again. “Think he’ll want somethin’ ta eat, too, Law?”

With that, without waiting for him to say another word, she headed off down the tunnel, bare footsteps silent against the stone as she disappeared into the dark, her second eyelid sliding down to enhance her night vision as she went. Idly, she wondered how the other teen had managed to get so far down the tunnels without getting irrevocably lost in the dark. Dall thought perhaps it was best not to ask at the moment.

He seemed kind of fragile, even if he was a survivor, and she didn’t like to cause people unnecessary strain or stress if she could help it, it made things messy in a way she didn't know how to clean up. Law had enough problems, his life had sucked enough from what she remembered, for that kind of stuff to be a real issue. Especially with the already present dark circles under his startlingly yellow eyes in pale from fatigue but still sandy dark features.

It wasn’t as if she were someone to pry, either, in any case. People’s business was their own, in her opinion.

“Hey, bear,” she said once she’d come upon the smaller than she was expecting creature. “Ya name’s Bepo, yeah?”

The creature twitched for a moment before raising its head tiredly to look up at her with soulful dark eyes in a pale furred face and a stained muzzle.

“Uh, uh, yes,” he said back to her, sounding and smelling nervous, voice strangely warped. “I’m Bepo.”

“Good. C’mon then. Law’s waiting at the fire, kay?”

“O-Okay…”

He followed along behind her, sniffing occasionally, his gait sounding a bit like he was limping, so she slowed down some to accommodate him. Not wanting the little bear to be in as much pain as it would likely cause him to hurry after her in the dark with unfamiliar terrain.

Amusingly enough, Law was waiting tensely by the tunnel exit, edged as far into the dark as he’d dare. Dalla practically felt the little bear behind her perk up at the sight of him, making a low grumble of happiness even as the boy released a long breath, tension with it.

“Ah, looks like crab’s done,” she said, and reached her hand into the boiling water to grab the cooked creature. She quickly dismantled it, cracking the shell, and scooping out the meat with her claws and into a bowl before handing it off to a tired looking Law. “Oi, Bepo.”

The little bear, barely more than a cub, really, opened his eyes from where he was leaned against the bent-to-accommodate-him Law’s leg. She couldn’t help but quirk a smile at the innocent curiosity in those dark animalistic eyes as he looked back at her from his dirty, bloodstained muzzle.

“Ya like fish?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool,” she grinned, teeth that were more than human sharp but not like her drop set, glinted in the firelight. “I’ll go get us summa that, while Law eats his crab, yeah?”

“O-Okay.”

So she dove into the water again, and it took her perhaps forty five minutes to find the kind of prey she was looking for and bring it up, a large, fat fish that was as long as she was tall, but three times as thick around so that there would be plenty of meat to go around. When she pulled it up out of the water behind her by the tail, she startled Law out of a weary light doze by the fireside. And when his vision focused on her again after he fully woke, his eyes widened in surprise at the size of her prey, and she grinned again at the boost to her ego.

It had been a while since she’d been around a person, and completely exposed of her race in the way she was in simply her swimsuit before the other teenager. Markings, fins and webbed fingers and toes clear to view even as she shook her head and pulled down her flared head fins to sit neatly hidden by her haphazardly braided hair.

The bear made a hungry noise and shifted off of the boy, looking wide eyed at her prize.

“Ya get da offal, da guts, yeah?” she told the bear as she crouched down the large fish, slipping her clawed hand into the flesh by its head and then slicing down to the tail so that the innards were clear to see. “I’ll clear ‘em out for ya so ya don’t gotta go diggin’ for ‘em. S’got all sortsa protein an’ da like in it. S’good for ya.”

True to her word, she scraped the innards of the fish clean out, briefly rinsed out the gunk, and set them on two separate trays for him since there was so much from inside the fish. Then she washed off blood-soaked arms with another dunk and then set about portioning off pieces of the fish and wrapping them in paper to be sunk to the ocean floor to keep cold in a container.

Yanking off a chunk of meat she stuffed it in her mouth after she was done pulling off the more useful pieces that would keep longer, humming in appreciation for the flavor and how healthy her kill had been. A good choice, and it’d given her a bit of a chase too, which was refreshing. Behind her she could hear the bear cub munching away on the intestines and organs that she’d given him, the metal tray scraping a little on the rock floor of the cavern as he ate and shifted it.

The fire warmed her back in a contrast with the deep sea water cool of the rest of her body.

If she tilted her head and squinted, she could almost call this homey.

“What’s your name?” was finally asked from behind her, and she turned to look at him, taking in his gaunt but not so shaky appearance.

“’M called Dalla,” she told him, swallowing down another strip of fish that she’d cut off with her claws. “Don’t got no last name or whateva.”

Finishing what was in her hand she considered the mostly stripped carcass before she threw another look behind her, pursing her lips in thought.

“Ya still hungry? Like, real kinda hungry and not just wantin’ da food, yeah?”

Another moment of silence.

“Yes.”

“Ya wan’ it cooked? Look like ya be sick easy at da mo’, but ‘s your choice.”

“It’d probably be better if I ate it cooked, at the moment, yes,” he admitted, placing a fond hand on Bepo’s back as the bear continued to eat. “And a small portion. I can’t handle it the way that you and Bepo can, apparently.”

“’S’all good,” she shrugged, sliding over to the fire once again, pulling out her little contraption for grilling without the grate to keep the juices in. Kept the meat from disintegrating when getting dry. “Think ya can handle some seasonin’ or what?”

“Nothing heavy. Probably just a bit of salt, if you can spare it.”

With the sizzling accompanying the cooking of the fish in a bit of homemade oil to keep it from sticking, the girl went about looking through her bag of recovered items from the bottom of the sea around the island, setting the clams and oysters into a shallow pool by the water as she did so.

There was a lovely comb with a few gems pressed into a detailed design of flowers and vines made with silver that was a bit tarnished. Still, she could polish that up and sell it for a neat price if she could get a fair estimate on the rocks in it, and she set it aside, mindlessly humming as she continued through her loot. A couple of dulled knives in disintegrating leather sheaths were tossed into a pile she had for scraps that wouldn’t bring in a good amount. While some rings that would clean up nice went with the comb, as did some bangles that looked a little bent out of shape, but she could fix that with a few twists of her fingers.

A book that had been printed on vellum rather than paper needed to dry and wasn’t terribly destroyed, so she set that carefully to dry on a rack by the fire, running curious, careful fingers over the print, wondering what it was about.

It was fine. She’d never been much of a reader, anyhow.

Glancing at the waterline and gauging the time based on the tide, she scrunched her nose as she worked out how the space was going to fit them all, especially since she didn’t have enough blankets for more than one person. Ah, actually, first, she should find out if they had anywhere they needed to be.

“Law,” she said, looking up from her loot to the boy across from her. “Ya got any place ta be?”

“No,” he answered simply, firefly yellow eyes focused on her own bright pink ones. “We don’t.”

“Then da two o’ ya can stay ‘ere tonight,” she told them decisively as she flipped the fish before standing to gather her bedroll from its waterproof wrapping. “I’ll jus’ go under for da night. I can sleep easy under da water same’s I can ‘bove it.”

“I…” for the second time, the boy seemed to swallow his pride, glancing at the dirty, skinnier than he should be Bepo. There was something about that bear that smelled familiar, as if itching at the back of her mind that she _knew_ something, but couldn’t quite remember. “If it’s no trouble, then we’ll gladly stay the night.”

“Cool, yeah? Oh, Bepo, ya can eat da leftover fish,” she told him as he sniffed at the carcass curiously. “Jus’ avoid da eyes and don’t eat da bones, yeah? I can use those for soup and paste, y’know?”

“O-okay, Dalla,” that awkward voice said to her, those dark animal eyes looking up at her soulfully. “I’ll be careful.”

“’S’good, yeah?” she quirked a smile at the bear cub as he began to tear the remaining flesh from the fish, digging into the meat with claws and fangs. “Law, ya fish is done. Ya thirsty? Got some fresh water, some mango juice.”

“Just water, if you don’t mind.”

After she handed off the small slice of grilled fish and a jug of water with a dented tin cup, she stood and made her way down the tunnel once again. Meandered way all the way to the entrance from dirt side, catching the last rays of the sun as she hooked her clawed fingers in the grooves of the boulder before dragging it back to cover the entryway.

To be honest, the few people who came to this island didn’t know who she was, and this was just one of her many catches of gear and a place to stay while she was in the area searching out the ocean floor. For Dalla, it was pretty easy to travel from island to island, since she could literally just survive in the ocean, not needing to imbibe fresh water when she was underwater for the majority of the time because her body filtered the water she breathed to absorb some to hydrate her.

Her new body was freakin’ sweet.

It made it easy to live alone, without assistance for survival.

Good benefits besides a few downsides, and she couldn’t fault the color of her aesthetic, really.

Yawning as she came upon her guests she stretched her long limbs, her shoulders and back cracking after a long day of scavenging and the swim from another island the day before. Man, Anila was going to freak when she found out that Dalla was around a main character.

Dallaa wondered how she was doing on that island she dropped her at.

“There’s some basic firs' aid stuff over there,” she flapped a hand at the pile by her wooden chest. “Ya can go ahead and use ‘em for whatever. Don’t got much use for ‘em myself, can’t do more than wrap things if’n I get cut, y’know? Can’t wear that shit inta da water, neither.”

Glancing around her cozy little cave, she turned to meet her pink inhuman eyes with his intelligent but tired yellow ones.

“Be back inna mornin’. Likely ‘round dawn or whateva,” she pulled her multitude of braids over her shoulder, so they weren’t brushing over her back. “Get us some breaky, yeah? Need anythin’ else on da ‘morrow lemme know, kay?” with that, she patted Bepo’s head as she passed him, stooping to do so, before she started into the water. “G’Night.”

Diving down once again, she slid down the familiar small tunnel out a little ways to protect her den entrance, wedging herself into a larger crevice to keep herself from drifting as she slept. Pulling in her fins so that she didn’t bump them or anything in the night, she sighed, enjoying the feeling of water slicking through her internal gills and let herself slide into partial meditation to help her ease into sleep.

In the morning, she’d go about changing the story, yeah?

Dalla could almost hear Nilla’s scolding. How soothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Semi graphic depiction of an infected wound and parasites.

When she woke, she scared the little fish that had been cleaning her teeth away by flicking her tongue.

Any other kind of fish she probably would have crunched down or swallowed whole, but one didn’t eat feeder fish, it was rude and counterproductive. Yawning underwater was always an experience, making the sacks in her chest inflate strangely next to her lungs. Her biology was a real mess and she didn’t remember enough about human stuff beyond the basics, and _nothing_ about aquatic, to be able to name them.

Yawning kinda tickled like this, but she woke up quickly with a few stretches against the strange stiffness of buoyancy.

Then, she went around to find a fat nest of pig fish eggs to harvest, piling them in a large shell she found on the ground, leaving some to continue on. They popped like grapes with a shrimpy texture in the center even if it had an almost bacon aftertaste. Which was always interesting, considering the fact that the actual fish, despite looking like a pig, didn’t taste anything like pork.

After that, she snacked on a couple small fish, crunching enough to kill them, and then swallowing them whole, bones and all. She’d swallowed live fish whole before, just to try it, and the squirming nausea may have been psychosomatic, but she didn’t want to try again. It hadn’t hurt her though, because apparently her digestive tract was really fuckin’ awesome as well, meaning that she could swallow all kind of bones and digest them.

Even hypothetically squirmy fish in her guts, teeth an’ all, were easy to deal with.

She was up in the cave again, slurping an oyster out of its shell and then popping a grape sized fish eggs into her mouth when she heard her guest shifting. That thin frame twisted from she could see him curled up in her blankets with the little Bepo at his back facing the land entryway.

Flesh and nutrients slid down her ravenous gullet as she considered her guests, feeling vaguely awkward in a way she hadn’t in a long while. Dalla wasn’t used to company these days, wasn’t used to _people_ being around, even bear shaped ones.

Other than having a mental breakdown if she were here, at least Anila would know how to do this whole human interaction thing.

Ah, whatever. It was what it was.

Law groaned roughly, the sound hoarse and soft, as if he were trying to hold it in even in his sleep, but the pain in the verbalization was evident. Something hummed at the tips of her folded fins and she frowned around her mouthful, instinct sliding pink on black eyes over again.

Licking out the last of the oyster bits, she set the shell aside and stood, moving over to the teenager that had once been a fictional character. A kid who was now a very real person that had needed her help, meager though what Dalla could give was, having little more than her very self.

Crouching down next to him, she pressed her palm to his forehead feeling how much warmer he was than he should be, radiating inches away from his clammy skin. Sweat had soaked his skin with fever, hair that was already grimy getting lathered in the boy’s sweaty secretions as he twisted and turned with likely muscle spasms.

Worry furrowed her brow as she looked down on the other teen, because she really had no medical expertise other than what it was that _she_ could take for a fever. Things she’d learned from trial and error and Fisher Tiger and Jinbei when they’d reeled her snarling nearly feral self in as a child.

Dalla didn’t have any human medicine other than the pain medications that were safe for her, and those she only had just in case her ridiculous pain tolerance couldn’t deal with something. Honestly, some of it was probably out of date at this point. Medicine expired, right? She was pretty sure. The Dalla of before hadn’t cared about dates and doses on the pills she’d taken with the addled mind of an addict.

Now, she didn’t even think a body like hers _could_ develop a dependency, which was something of a relief.

Still, this lack of knowledge in general and down to this new reality meant that she didn’t know the right way to go about this. She hated to do it, but she needed to wake Law up from his no doubt restless slumber. Between the three of them, he was the human in this world, and he had medical training to back it up, so definitely the better choice of anyone in this cave.

Unless the bear had secret talents, but she wasn’t going to bet on it.

He smelled just as uneasy in his sleep as she no doubt was from the scent of sickness that had made her skin tingle with worry.

“Law,” she said quietly, her palm pressed against his sweaty cheek, noting his high cheekbone. He really was quite the looker, even at this age, malnourished and bruised eyes an’ al. “Law, ya gotta wake up.”

His face flinched as he began to wake, and glazed feverish yellow eyes stared up at her in the dim light from the low burning fire. It looked like he’d stoked it at some point in the night, his fever chills getting to him probably, more wood on the flickering coals and flames. Near burned out, but it wouldn’t take much for her to get it going as need be if he said so.

“Ya got ya-self a fever, Law,” she informed him, absently petting her fingers against his face, claws withdrawn back into their sheaths since she didn’t need them. “I dunno what ta do for ya, so ya gotta wake on up an’ tell me what’t tis ya need.”

Always so strange, the texture different between herself and humans, how soft and fleshy they felt in comparison with all their little hairs she no longer had. If she had to compare her skin to anything it would be to petting a stingray or a porpoise depending on the day.

Dalla’s new body was badass but it was also a mystery.

Helping him to sit up when he unstuck his gummy, chapped lips, she held a cup of water up to his mouth, carefully trickling it into his mouth so that he could swallow slowly. Human’s had finicky lungs and she couldn’t remember a fear of drowning for the life of her anymore.

Dalla pulled it away after he’d taken a few swallows, setting it aside to situate him so that he leaned up against the bear cub behind him, blankets pulled around him tightly as he shivered.

Oh, he looked really stiff, and he was radiating heat in rather uncomfortable ways.

“Fever?”

Law looked down, a sluggish hand pulling at the blanket to show his right leg, pulling at the tear in his pants to see the inflamed area around the bandages he must have put on the night before. Had she smelled blood? She didn’t _think_ so, but with the thieving and then gutting the fish…

“Must be… the beginnings of an infection.”

“I can clean that out, yeah?” she told him, undoing his pants after a questioning look for permission; nudity didn’t affect her the same anymore, after a childhood running wild and free. Dalla pulled them down so he sat in his boxer brief in front of her, too tired and ill to really care. “It won’t be fun, y’know. ‘S’gonna hurt like a bitch while I go at it, yeah? Don’ clean things like this like a human, unnerstand?”

A wheezing grunt, dry in a worrying way, was her answer.

She slowly unwrapped the bandaging holding down a gauze pad, and noted how it was stuck to his flesh from the discharge that his wound was giving off. Oh, fuck, that smell made her nose itch even as she poured a bit of water over the ruined gauze to help loosen the hold it had on the boy’s skin. Dalla was sure he hadn’t smelled so nasty yesterday despite how unkept he was, and he’d likely cleaned it before going to bed.

Sometimes luck was shit though.

When she pulled it off, the other teen stiffened, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he struggled not to move the rest of his body, to pull away from the pain. Removing the stuck pad from the infected wound, pus pilling out more as she set it free to the air, she grimaced in distaste once it was off. Law was panting slightly, features too pale and flushed at the same time.

Oh, shit. That did _not_ look right at _all._

Dalla might not be human anymore but she was pretty sure that wounds weren’t supposed to turn that particular shade of purple overnight. It was too rusty, edging on the red of old blood, blacked in the ragged torn bits.

He was rotting, and very, very quickly.

“Got a pro’lem, Law.”

Carefully pressing her fingertips around the edges of his wound, gently checking for lumps she grimaced down at the sticky, oozing mess. It looked like he’d been shot at some point, and while he’d likely removed the bullet and sutured what he could, it didn’t mean that he’d been able to fix the damage.

“’S’not a day in, but ya got a Sand Worm infestation.”

“Fuck!” he snapped, clenching his eyes shut, before he pressed his lips together, clearly thinking deeply. “Do you know how to remove them without proper tools? I don’t have any medical equipment with me and I’ve – I’ve never –”

His voice faded away and she let it, didn’t press him about the nerves, the weakness of his voice. Future Surgeon of Death he might be, but he was still just a kid right now, no matter how mature.

Dalla wondered how he’d dealt with this the first time around.

“C’n do it my way,” she admitted. “Gonna hurt more. Humans don’t got da pain toler’nce, generally, yeah? Should get that fever down firs’ though, or mayhap knock ya out?”

Staring grimly down at the little beige creatures that looked more like centipedes than worms sliding under his flesh, pushing pus out as they went, Dalla didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know what he would have done in the original world if he got a Sand Worm infection back there.

It wouldn’t happen now either way, ‘cause she’d take care of it. It’d hurt, but if she knew anything about Law as the grim, driven character he’d been, it was that he was a survivor.

He had a goal, and pain wouldn’t prevent him from reaching it.

“I – if you can,” he blinked rapidly for a moment, bringing a hand up to press to his forehead as if he’d gotten lightheaded. “If you can get me some Boneset and White Willow bark while some water boils and make it into a rudimentary tea. That should work for the fever. As for the pain… I’ll deal with that when it comes.”

Can always dip him in the water, it was cold enough it might cool his core temp. Sure he was a Devil Fruit user, but she was a Fish Woman and there was rarely a thing in the ocean, in a Blue, that she’d couldn’t deal with.

“Hmm, okay,” standing up, Dalla moved to wake up Bepo who the boy was still leaning against. “Bepo. C’mon little bear, ‘s’time ta wakey up, kay?”

Huffing and grumbling, the dirty white bear blinked open his dark, shiny black eyes to look at her. A moment of confusion passed over his animal face before recognition lit in his eyes.

“Dalla,” his awkward voice spoke, nasally from his wrinkled snout. “What’s that smell?”

“Law’s sick, little bear,” she told him, trying to annunciate a little clearer, crouching flat footed in front of him. “I need ta go get some stuff ta help him out, yeah? So, need ya ta keep ‘im company and make sure he ‘as water an’ such. Can ya grip a cup, Bepo?”

“A little,” he said, holding out a paw that was shaped more like a human’s than it should be if he was an escaped experiment, niggling again at the back of her mind. “But I’m not very good.”

There was something that she should _remember_ , but she couldn’t at the moment, so she wouldn’t stress. It wasn’t her way to worry much, anyway.

What will be, will be.

Nothing could be changed from overthinking it, and Dalla knew that some things just were. No changing them. Just moving passed them.

“Ya jus’ gotta be good ‘nough ta hold a cup fulla water, yeah?” she smiled at him, teeth behind her lips. “Ya be good now, I’ll be back.”

“Okay, Dalla. I’ll take care of Law.”

“Good, yeah?”

~*~

When she returned, it was to the sour scent of bile over the stink of sweat and sickness. Bepo was prowling around worriedly, whining as he nosed at a wheezing Law, who was propped up against her ragged feather stuffed pillow. Under that, was one of her bags filled with old clothing she’d scavenged from the wrecks, so it wasn’t too hard.

She was glad that she’d started the water to boil in her kettle before she’d left.

“Dalla!” the bear sounded so relieved. “You’re back! Law got sicker and I didn’t know what to do! Can you help him?”

“Hope so, yeah?”

The Fish Woman grabbed her coffee pot, that was reminiscent of a French Press from her life before, and dumped her find in the bottom before dumping the boiling water in to sit for a minute. It was the closest thing to a kettle she had, all beaten up and scavenged as all of her things were.

“Law?” she asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as she swept her hand over his face again, bringing those fever tight, glazed eyes back to her face. “Got da tea makin’ itself, yeah? Stomach turnt, I see. Tha’ c’n be cleaned up easy ‘nough. Need anythin’ ‘fore we begin?”

Yellow eyes squinted at her and he steeled himself as he registered her once again, looking too tired to be ashamed or embarrassed the way another teen might be.

“No,” he breathed, and his not particularly pleasant breath was like a waft of heat in her face, making her worry. “Just… just get on with it.”

“Mm. Kay.”

Get on with it. Right.

She hated having to do stuff like this. Give her some asshole to tear in half with her bare hands any day, but healing and other skilled work? Yeah, nah, fam.

Killing was so much easier.

Dumping the bastardized tea into the cup that had been used for his water previously she set it aside to cool while inspecting his leg, displeased with the lack of natural light. She might be able to see just fine in the depths, vision shifting to pick up every hint of bioluminescence and movement a hum against her skin, this was different.

_Tsk_ ing, she gathered some water to her hand and shot a Water Bullet at the ceiling of the cave, hitting the same spot she always did. The rock she’d perched on the roof rolled away from the hole she’d made, letting the sunlight drift down into the cluttered little cavern and light up her guest better.

While she could see perfectly fine in the dark considering she came from a deep-sea dwelling society where little natural light hit, Law couldn’t. Doubly used to it, especially from outside of the city proper itself where she had been born; in a manner of speaking.

Dalla had grown up outside the confines of society and civilization, but there were some things that just needed a little sunlight. Besides, it was difficult enough to deal with those disgusting little creatures when they _weren’t_ trapped in the festering wound of a weakened human. For this teenager who didn’t have the proper tools needed to take care of the problem themselves, with whatever technique was meant for them.

In the way that she didn’t know how to for him.

Her education was somewhat… _lacking_. Anila would know what to do, considering her medical knowledge from before at least, but Dalla wasn’t Nilla.

There was only a little bit that she knew about human physiology, and most of it came from her past life’s health classes. Which mostly involved the reproductive organs more than anything else, something that definitely wasn't going to help her out here.

Ask her to name the different parts of internal and external sex organs, sure. Ask her the difference between a tendon and a ligament and she’d tell you the level of chewiness.

Grabbing a piece of rubber that had maybe once been a part of a tire and had become one of her random treasures that she carried around with her, Dalla wrapped some thin, old but clean cloth around it. With a discontent twist to dark purple lips, she raised it to his mouth, where he grimaced before opening to bite down on it just in case he was going to need to.

He was going to need to.

There was no ‘just in case’ in this scenario. He might grow up to be something of a badass, who can fight near death with a crazy grin and with missing limbs, but teenage him? No, in those moments he was at the most fourteen, tired, sick, hungry, and just all around not in good shape, and this was going to be excruciating for him.

Hell, it was going to hurt her too, if not physically.

“Bepo,” she said, and the bear stumbled to her side, groaning when he looked at the wound on his friend. “Ya keep ‘im from thrashin’ ‘bout, yeah? Don’t let him go hittin’ his head on the stone, kay?”

“Okay, Dalla,” the bear said, pressing his face into her shoulder for a moment before he bumbled around to the back of the future Surgeon of Death, Captain of the Heart Pirates. “Will Law be okay?”

“Work as hard as I can ta make ‘im that way, yeah?”

Crouching down so that her face was uncomfortably close to the oozing, writhing wound, she glanced up with an apologetic expression on her face. Probably wasn’t very reassuring, considering her inhuman features, but she had to at least try.

“Sorry ‘bout this, Law.”

Before he could try to reply around the guard in his mouth, she opened her mouth inhumanely wide. Her jaw slid into that place it did in preparation for her drop set as she placed her teeth around the edges of the wound, careful to contain all of the Worms, and then she dropped her fangs down. He jerked and shouted hoarsely through the rubber, hands shooting up to squeeze tightly at her shoulders. Those thin hands trembled with pain and weakness, fingertips sharp points of almost pain digging into the meat of her shoulders.

She didn’t move as her needle thin, sharp fangs pierced through his infected, infested flesh. Dalla made a caged circle keeping the creatures contained by her layered teeth, not quite like a shark, and more like the Angler Fish she took after. Some sense told her that she wasn’t dangerously close to bone, that this would only harm him if she pulled her head away.

If she moved too sharply, she’d take a chunk of him with her, and she didn’t want that.

The Worms squirmed violently, knowing that they were trapped within the limited amount of space in the poisoned flesh, unable to spread. Ugh, disgusting.

Though she wished that was the hard part, it really wasn’t.

Holding down his leg so that she didn’t do unnecessary damage to him – she’d already hurt him enough – she began to suck. To remove mixture of puss, ooze and Worms, their eggs only just laid, so there were no larvae that she had to worry about removing as well.

With the putrid mixture of parasite and rotting flesh in her mouth shoved into her cheek pouch to keep from falling down her gullet, she slowly continued. Dalla meticulously cleaned the wound until most of what she was pulling out was blood. Distinctly not the tangy, sour sweetness that was the puss and infected flesh that had taken up residence in her mouth.

Oh, so disgusting.

If it were possible for this body of hers to vomit, she’d definitely want to so even if she hadn’t ingested any of it.

Retracting her drop teeth, she pulled back, emptied her cheek pouch into her mouth, and then spat the disgusting globule filled with critters into the fire. Where it sizzled and popped, the squirming Worms cooking and making shrieking sounds as they, too, exploded in the heat.

A lot of things about this new life were really fucking gross, and this was in the top five.

Though all she wanted to do was scrape her tongue off and rinse out her mouth, she sat back and picked up the cooled down but still nearly hot cup of tea. As gently as she could, she pried the rubber out of Law’s mouth, his hands falling down to weakly grip at her biceps, trembling as she put the lip of the cup to his mouth.

Supporting his almost lolling head with her free hand, she carefully made him drink all the tea in the cup. Dalla took breaks so that he could breathe heavily against the skin of her wrist that sat next to his mouth, his yellow eyes falling closed on occasion as he rested, features exhausted and pained.

Yeah, she hoped she never had to do that again.

“I got all o’ da San’ Worms,” she told him gently, ignoring the horrible taste in her mouth that made her tongue a bit heavier than usual. “But it still needs cleanin’. It won’ hurt da same, but it’ll be uncomfortable at da leas’,” she absently rubbed her thumb soothingly over his wane cheek, meeting his tired but determined yellow eyes with her bright pink ones. “Needs ta be done ‘fore infection sets in hard again.”

“Okay,” he leaned back against the bear that was whining and nuzzling at his neck. “Okay. Do it.”

Maybe she didn’t know him, and maybe she’d forgotten a bunch of stuff about One Piece, but she thinks he’s braver now than he was in that story. Anila would say they were all brave because it was a shounen manga and that meant enemies turned to friends and yadda yadda. Tragic backstories and powerful leaps for the sake of loved ones, but…

Dalla was of the opinion that being brave for yourself was harder than being brave for the sake of someone else.

Shifting down again to look at his thigh, she reached one hand up to tangle it with his still trembling one, giving comfort where she could. This would also allow him to squeeze her hand if she hurt him too badly as some kind of relief, something else to focus on rather than the pointed pain in his leg.

Sniffing at the wound, she mostly smelled blood, as it slowly trickled out of the perhaps a week old gunshot wound. Judging human injuries was tricky, and she had nothing to compare it to from her previous life even still, not even adding in bullshit Devil Fruit powers.

There were still tinges of that sickly sweet over ripe smell that meant that there was an infection in the wound, though. Unfortunately.

So, with her free hand, she pressed from his unwounded skin towards the edges and used her tongue to remove the residual puss and ooze. It wasn’t a pleasant process for anyone involved.

Dalla continued until there was only blood and plasma dribbling out, spitting out the taint as she went so that it sizzled in the fire instead of dirtied up the injury. For some time she continued in this manner, licking at the wound, pushing out the infection. She didn’t know how long it took for her mouth to be filled with the coppery taste of human blood instead of ichor, which she also spit out with some disgust.

While she may have been a predator, she was by no means a literal _man_ eater.

Long pig wasn’t on the menu.

“’S as good as I’m gonna get it, Law,” she said, rinsing out her mouth with salt water and spitting once again. She needed to find something strong to burn that out. Maybe she should drink some vinegar. “Need me ta put anythin’ on it before we wrap it? Wanna air it a bit ‘fore we put it away?”

For a long moment he blinked at her, their one hand still entwined and her thumb absently rubbing over knobby, boney knuckles in comfort.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, his grip on her hand tightening unconsciously as he rolled his head to look at her again, eyes narrowed and unfocused. “If you can – can find some Calendula I can g-guide you through making an ointment that should help.”

“That’s da li'l yellow flowers, look kinda like a beehive, right?”

She didn’t even know where she knew that from, to be honest. She’d never been much for nature in her first life, and still only really cared about what happened under the water rather than on land.

“Yes,” closing his eyes again, he leaned back against the bear behind him. “That’s the one.”

“Okay. Bepo, ya in charge, yeah?”

“Okay, Dalla.”

Time to help heal a boy, apparently.

God, she needed to like, eat bark or lick a rock or _something._


End file.
